


Hope For The Underrated Youth

by jxmjars



Series: Next Generations [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Yungblud (Musician)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Les Mis Next Generation, M/M, Multi, Next Generation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23362108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxmjars/pseuds/jxmjars
Summary: In a world where there is unjustified hate, a government that ignores the wishes of the people, who stamp out those who speak against the dictator who wishes for total control, Les Amis de l'ABC had to regroup. Except for this time, they had their children to help. Events transpired, leaving their children alone to fight for their future. Wyatt Grantaire takes up his Dads' roles and leads The Underrated Youth.  But will he be successful?Inspired by Hope For The Underrated Youth by British musician YUNGBLUD.
Relationships: Bahorel/Feuilly (Les Misérables), Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Series: Next Generations [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680292
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Hope For The Underrated Youth

**_If I left today, would you wait for me or would you throw us all away?_ **

Wyatt ran his hands through his greasy hair, sighing shakily as he looked out across the city. There were more patrols happening. Militarisation getting out of hand. Since the executions of Les Amis, and especially his parents, Wyatt Grantaire was it. He was the spark keeping the fight alive. He, along with his honorary cousins, were the next generation of what his parents had started. The Underrated Youth. 

While no one was around, he looked out into the square, his eyes fixating on the spot he last saw his parents alive. It had been a year since Les Amis had been executed. The square was peaceful now, the derelict buildings around it lifeless. Yet, every time Wyatt looked down, he could hear the bustle of the crowd. The yells of the crowds ringing in his ears. His expression hard as he stared the square down, almost willing his parents to suddenly reappear. But even he knew that wouldn’t happen. 

  
  


_ Enjolras and Grantaire were led up to the gallows together, their hands tied behind their backs. This was it, they had lost their own fight. Enjolras looked at the noose and gulped. His heart was racing, and though he would never admit it, he was terrified. But what sort of martyr would he be if he didn’t die for his cause? Beside him, Grantaire was stoic, tears dripping down his cheek as he stared down the noose in front of him. Enjolras gulped and scanned the crowd, as he looked up, he caught sight of his son. Wyatt stood in a hallway of an apartment block, staring down at his parents with a look of fear in his eyes. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be at the base with his cousins and Aunt Lucy. But he was too much like his parents to follow simple orders like that.  _

_ “Untie our hands,” Enjolras said bluntly. “We won’t run.”  _

_ The guard looked stunned, almost shaking his head.  _

_ “I said, untie our hands. If we tried to escape you’d shoot us on sight. We’re dead men anyway.” Enjolras could be diplomatic. But now he’d accepted his fate and he just wanted to hold his husband's hand as he died.  _

_ The guard reluctantly untied their hands, cocking his gun in case they did try to run.  _

_ “Do you permit it?” Grantaire said with a sad smile on his face.  _

_ In reply, Enjolras smiled and clasped his husband's hands tightly.  _

_ The nooses were tied around their necks. Grantaire’s breathing became heavier and heavier as time ticked closer to his death.  _

_ “VIVE LA RÉPUBLIQUE! VIVE LA FRANCE!” A loud, final act of rebellion from the illustrious leader.  _

_ And just like that, Enjolras and Grantaire were dangling from the end of ropes. Their hands slipping from their grasp as they slipped into death.  _

_ Wyatt had already been crying, the images of each of Les Amis dangling still haunting him. But seeing his parents dangling sent him over the edge. His breathing became laboured as his body convulsed into sobs. Behind him, his cousin appeared. Charlie put his hand on Wyatt’s shoulder to lead him away.  _

_ “We should go. Mum’s looking for us.”  _

_ Wyatt tried to put up a fight, trying to climb over the bannister to reach his parents. Charlie fought him, trying to keep him quiet. Eventually, Wyatt relented and stormed off ahead of Charlie.  _

Eventually, Wyatt climbed down from his spot at the top of the tower block. He had to get back to the base. 

**_And just take my heart out. That'll make it better. I won't be sorry, better late than never. Just take my heart out. That'll make it better._ ** **_Hidin' all my feelings but I know that I'm not dreaming._ **

“Wyatt! You’re back!” Hugo Feuilly-Bahorel grinned, shaking hands with Wyatt in his own special way. Of course, it involved a fist bump at the end of it, leaving both Hugo and Wyatt in a grin.

Wyatt ruffled the teenager’s hair and stuffed his hands back in his pocket. He made his way back to the hut, desperate to hide in a cloud of weed and booze until he had to go to the meet that night. He was too like his Dad sometimes, hiding his emotions in alcohol and weed. But in the moments he had to stand tall and lead The Underrated Youth, it was clear that he was raised by Enjolras. 

There was humming coming from inside the hut, causing Wyatt to relax before he’d even walked through the door. His girlfriend, Eloise, was laid on her back, one leg crossed over the other as she read a book. She had her headphones in, bobbing her foot and humming the tune of the song. Wyatt grinned and slowly walked over to her, crouching as he got closer. He leant down over her head and kissed her forehead, smiling against her skin. Eloise put her book down and slid her headphones off her ears, grinning up at him. 

“Hey, baby. Where have you been?” She asked, sitting up to let him sit down next to her. 

Wyatt obliged and sat next to her, draping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to him. 

“Here and there.” He shrugged in reply, resting his head on the back of the old sofa. 

“You didn’t go to the square again, did you?” She asked hesitantly, watching his face for any hint to show that he’d gone there. 

Wyatt shrugged again. He could lie easily, but even he knew that Eloise could see right through it. 

“Babe,” Elosie sighed, sitting up straight. “You know you can’t go out there. They’re looking for you. You’re risking ending up like Les Amis if you get caught!” 

Wyatt ran a hand down his face and sat up too. He zoned out as Eloise ranted on about the dangers of him going out alone. Thankfully, there was some weed, tobacco and skins sat on the table next to his grinder. As she ranted on, he rolled a joint, desperate to let go and relax. 

“You can’t just smoke and drink away your feelings, Wyatt.” 

Wyatt sighed deeply and lit his joint, inhaling sharply. 

“Watch me.” He muttered, reaching over for a beer that had been sitting there from the night before. 

Eloise sighed and sat back. “Whatever. Just don’t get too drunk, you have the meet tonight.”    
  
Wyatt nodded and took a sharp inhale of his joint. This was his escape, the one time his brain went quiet. It allowed him to recharge and re-energise his head. He slipped into moments of bliss, the high taking over. 

  
  


**_'Cause there's hope for the underrated youth, a_ ** [ **_nd I'm so far from telling you the truth_ ** ](https://genius.com/Yungblud-hope-for-the-underrated-youth-lyrics#note-17730573) **_, 'cause you keep on pulling me down, pulling me down, pulling me down. Yeah there's hope for the underrated youth..._ **

  
  


On his way to the meeting, Wyatt interacted with many of the other Underrated Youths, a grin on his face as he spoke to them. He was admired by many of them. He represented hope, peace, liberty, fraternity, and equality. He was recognised by his signature white top, black denim jacket, pink socks, and his mop of black hair. Many people surrounded him, eager to interact with him. Wyatt spoke to as many people he could before taking his leave towards the main hut. 

Inside, his Aunt Lucy was tidying up. Since the war broke out and the government cracked down on activist groups, she wasn't the person she once was. Lucy needed anything to keep her mind busy. Since her twin brother's execution, Lucy Bahorel had become the mother hen of the group. She felt somehow responsible for all the children left behind. 

Once she caught sight of Wyatt, she walked over to him and pulled him into a tight hug, rubbing her hand down his back. Wyatt hugged her back tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. While she'd lost her best friend, she understood that Wyatt lost his Papa. So together they grieved. 

"You didn't go to the square did you?" She asked, moving away slightly to inspect her nephew. Lucy knew Wyatt all too well, she knew he would go to the square. Especially today. There wasn't anything she could do to stop him, he had the fire of his parents. Especially R's disobedience. 

"I'm sorry?" He said, almost questioning his apology. He wasn't truly sorry for leaving the base and going out to the square. It was the anniversary of the executions that shook the city, and those around him most of all. Going to the square meant that he could feel close to his parents again. It was his way of trying to connect with them. 

Lucy sighed and reached up to kiss her nephew’s temple. “I understand, baby. But you can’t keep holding onto the past like that. The last thing we need is you ending up on those gallows if you were caught, huh?” 

Wyatt nodded and moved away from his aunt, he needed to get the place ready. In other words, he was trying to avoid the truth in what she was saying. 

Later on that evening, many members of the Underrated Youth filed into the shoebox of a meeting hut. They were all there to hear Wyatt speak. All there to hear the newest updates from outside the base. 

The hut was filled with memorabilia from Les Amis’ history. There were photos from when the group first started up. A student activist group determined to get equality on campus, and later the world. There were posters and newspaper clippings from old rallies and protests led by Les Amis, highlighting the different causes they supported. While the hut was very activist orientated, there were still various photos that showed that Les Amis were more than just an activist group. If you hadn’t known much about Les Amis prior to walking into the hut, you’d learn it all just by inspecting the walls. You’d learn that they were more than just friends, they were a tight knit family who cared deeply for one another. You’d learn that they eventually had their own families, some settling down and stopping their activist activities to focus on their partners and kids. You’d learn that even their marble leader stepped back from the front line after a violent protest that had almost killed him. You’d learn that the only things he loved more than his causes were his friends and especially his husband and son, Wyatt. 

When Wyatt felt alone without his Dads, he would sit in there, talking to the pictures. He knew it was probably stupid to do that. But he needed to speak to them, even if it was only through photographs. 

Charlie shuffled in, sitting near Wyatt as a form of support. His mom didn’t want any part of the meetings, choosing instead to look after the younger kids with her husband. Next to Charlie was his fiance, Toby. They were both on edge, looking out for Wyatt. Charlie, a former opioid addict and alcoholic, saw the signs of Wyatt’s decline. But he couldn’t mention it. So instead he stood by him and supported him at every step. 

Wyatt stood up and ran a hand through his hair. He looked around him, taking in everyone’s features. Even he couldn’t deny that they all relied on him. They relied on him far too much. But he accepted it. No one else had the balls to stand up and look out for everyone. 

After a few more deep breaths, Wyatt took his stance atop the makeshift soap box. 

“It’s been a year.” He said simply, his emotions not betraying him. “It has been a year since our parents, our uncles, our aunts, all took the greatest sacrifice for our cause. Les Amis de l’ABC fought long and hard to ensure that France was equal. That France remained liberated. They fought so hard until they met their end. But their fight is not over. Not for a long shot. Where they left off, we must pick up.” 

Wyatt pointed to the tattered red flag that hung from the wall behind them. He looked at it briefly before turning his gaze back to the crowd in front of him. 

“This flag shows where we started. We would not be here today, all of us in this hut, if it weren’t for Les Amis, we would all be on the streets, facing the wrath of  _ them _ .” Wyatt’s chest was rising and falling in quick succession as he started to think of everything that had happened in the last few years. 

**_Every day is an episode, I pick and mix with self-control. My head won't let me go, like if I died you'd never know. I made friends with the dark parts that are inside of my mind, I tied them up ‘til they come up spiking juvenile rhymes._ **

_ Wyatt was sitting on the sofa in his tatty pyjamas, shovelling cereal into his mouth as he bobbed his head to the music playing through his headphones. Grantaire was shuffling around the house, tidying up after his eighteen year old son. Life was good. Wyatt didn’t have much of a care in the world. His life was relatively easy. He partied, he went to college, he listened to music, he was happy.  _

_ “Wyatt?” Grantaire called from the kitchen, not quite realising that his son was preoccupied with the music blaring from his headphones. Grantaire sighed and called his name one more time, this time popping his head out of the kitchen to see if his son was actually listening to him. When he saw the massive over-head earphones on his son’s head, he shook his head with a smile. Slowly he snuck up behind his teenager, subtly lifting one of the headphones from one of Wyatt’s ears. Before Wyatt could realise what was happening, Grantaire leant in and yelled; “EARTH TO WYATT!?”  _

_ Wyatt jumped, almost launching his cereal bowl across the room in fright. Grantaire’s initial reaction was to double over in laughter, his hand on his stomach as he laughed at his son. Wyatt pulled his headphones off his head and turned to glare at his Dad.  _

_ “It’s not funny, Dad! I fuckin’ shat my pants!” He whined, putting the cereal bowl on the table. A pout formed on his lips as he sat back on the sofa.  _

_ Grantaire had calmed his laughter, there were still giggles leaving his lips with every glance to his pouting teenager.  _

_ Amidst Grantaire’s giggling and Wyatt’s pouting, Enjolras had stormed through the front door and immediately put the news on the T.V.. Grantaire’s smile dropped. There was a look on his husband's face that he knew all too well. Of course, he hadn’t seen it in years. Not since Les Amis had stepped back. Not since Wyatt had gotten older. It was then that Grantaire knew something had happened. Something awful. Wyatt, on the other hand, had put his headphones back on, oblivious to his Papa’s antics.  _

_ Enjolras stared at the T.V., almost willing for what he was seeing not to be true. R had pulled his son’s headphones off his head, tapping his shoulder and pointing to the T.V. in an attempt to silence his protests.  _

_ Enjolras had the news on, a news report highlighting what was happening outside. The news report had images of increased militarisation and destruction on the streets of France. The French president had gotten out of hand. France was now under the rule of a dictator. An absolutist. Now he was in power, there was no stopping him.  _

_ “We must make them understand that what we are doing is necessary for them to survive. We are teaching everyone the ways of the world. We are teaching them how to act in this world. If that means wiping out those who pose a threat to the way the world should be, then so be it.” The president spoke, hands on the lectern as he delivered his speech. He attempted to make remarks justifying the increased militarisation.  _

_ Wyatt had sat up, his heart racing. He knew what this meant. Life was about to change.  _

_ “Jesus Christ…” R whispered, moving towards his husband and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Does this- does this mean that Les Amis need to regroup?”  _

_ Enjolras simply nodded in reply, a moderate response considering he was once the marble leader. “I’ll email everyone.”  _

_ Wyatt stood and looked between his parents. “What does this mean for me?” He asked quietly. He knew the drill. Enjolras had ensured that he understood the fight for liberty and equality.  _

_ “I- I hadn’t even thought about that,” E whispered, looking at his son. Which was very much out of character for the once marble leader. He would have each detail planned out, a job for everyone. But now he had no idea how to fit in his child, his friends' children. Above all else, the last thing he wanted was to put Wyatt in danger.  _

_ “If you need me to fight, I will.” Wyatt said with determination, though his voice shook. _

_ Enjolras gulped and nodded. He pulled his son and husband into a tight hug, letting out a shaky sigh. Even then he knew this was the big one. But he couldn't sit this one out. He needed to fight. Even if his son's future was his motivation.  _

**_And my eyes are about to blow, but that's all part of this freak show, my personality got fucked up by the Adderall, got called an alien for bein' myself, I ain't got the patience to be someone else._ **

"Our predecessors were determined. Like I am determined.” Wyatt said simply. He watched everyone with a careful gaze, trying to analyse their reactions. “That insufferable cunt is ruling this country, he is ordering his dummies to shoot on sight. But we won’t lower ourselves to his level. We will not shoot anyone. We are officially deweaponising. We will not fight violence with violence.” 

From the crowd, Callum Combeferre cleared his throat. “How do you plan on achieving that? Wyatt, if they’re shooting us on sight, we need to be able to defend ourselves.” 

Wyatt listened to Callum intently, nodding as he spoke. “I understand that. But for now, I’m imposing a base lockdown. I will be speaking to you, Charlie, Toby and Joanna about this later.” 

The room fell into silence, everyone shocked about Wyatt’s imposition of a lockdown. A few looked to the floor, still processing what Wyatt was saying. Some were too stoic to reply. 

Wyatt saw all of this. He knew it wouldn’t be a favourable decision but it was a necessary one. Militarised patrols were getting closer and closer to the base and it wasn’t safe for anyone to leave base. If they were caught, it could have disastrous effects on The Underrated Youth. They needed to stay low and regroup. 

“Please, just whatever you do, don't

leave the base. We can’t risk being caught and we certainly cannot lose anymore lives at this point.” Wyatt gulped, his face showing fear and vulnerability. He didn’t want to be a dictator. He was a leader. He was doing this for their safety. 

How did his Papa do it? 

**_So just take my heart out, that'd make it better. I won't be sorry,_ **

**_better late than never. Just take my heart out, that'd make it better. Hidin' all my feelings but I know that I'm not dreaming..._ **

  
  


The next few days were hard, nobody knew what to do with themselves. Normally, they would move freely in the direct area around the compound. Their favourite places being out in the fields behind the compound. 

“Enough’s enough!” Sebastien said, standing up. “Wyatt thinks he’s in charge.” He seethed. His chest was rising and falling in rapid succession as his fury flowed through him. 

There were noises of disagreement around him. They all knew Wyatt was the only hope for them. Many of their parents sheltered them from the fight until it was too late. 

“Well, what do you plan on doing, huh? You’re about as useful as the rest of us!” 

Sebastien ran one hand through his hair. He let out a shaky sigh and reached into the back of his jeans. From his belt he pulled out a semi-automatic handgun. His hands were shaking, making it clear that he wasn’t even sure of this decision. There were gasps from around the grassy compound, causing murmurs of shock and disbelief. Sebastien was still shaking, a small smirk on his face as he admired the gun in his hand. Of course, he wasn’t completely sure about this. Wyatt had essentially outlawed guns within the compound. The only people who had possession were Wyatt, Charlie and Lucy. How was that fair? Was no-one else allowed to protect themselves should the guards come-a-knocking? Out of fear, many of the people shuffled away. They wouldn’t tattle on Seb, they knew better than that. But they didn’t wish to be accomplices to this. 

“You- you can’t have that.” Callum whispered, looking ready to turn and find Wyatt. Sebastien shot Callum a glare, silencing any movements that Callum may have made. 

“Well, I think it’s smart. We gotta protect ourselves somehow.” Marella said, a smirk growing on her face. Callum scoffed in reply, electing not to say anything. 

Sebastien moved away from everyone, cocking the handgun and pointing it towards a wall. Adrenaline flushed through him, his body warming with the risk. But he didn’t care for the risk, the adrenaline was all he needed. The world around him silenced. He closed his eyes and took the safety off, curling his finger around the trigger. 

Three. 

Two. 

One. 

_ Bang. _

At this point, Wyatt was walking around the compound, talking to different people when the gun went off. A wave of panic washed over his face, causing him to bolt around the compound. He automatically assumed they’d been found, that his family were at risk. After a few more gunshots, Wyatt found Sebastien, Marella and Callum surrounded by empty cans coated with bullet holes. This time a wave of fury washed over Wyatt’s face. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re fucking doing!?” He yelled, throwing his jacket to the ground and made a beeline for Sebastien. When he reached him, Wyatt shoved him with such fury the other fell onto his back. Sebastien climbed back onto his feet and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The handgun was still clasped in his other hand, waving it around like it was a toy. 

“Just thought, y’know, we might as well be able to protect ourselves.” He shrugged as he spoke. 

Wyatt let out a bitter laugh and grabbed the handgun from Seb’s hand, tossing it to the side. 

“You’ve no idea what you’re fucking doing.” He spat, shaking his head. He looked to Callum and nodded him over. “We need to talk.” 

Wyatt turned to walk away. He pointed to the handgun as he walked and scoffed. 

“Get rid of that.” 

**_'Cause there's hope for the underrated youth, and I'm so far from telling you the truth, 'Cause you keep on pulling me down, pulling me down, pulling me down. Yeah there's hope for the underrated youth..._ **

Wyatt was out in the fields, having a spare moment alone with Eloise. Everything was getting too much again, there was too much pressure on him. He gripped his beer bottle tightly, trying not to let everything around him get to him. 

Eloise placed soft kisses along his jawline, knowing he often relaxed into her touch. She was worried about him. There was only so much that Wyatt could handle before he suffered a breakdown, so she wanted to relax him as much as she could. 

“Babe, you need to stop drinking as much…” she sighed shakily. “It’s becoming a habit.” 

Wyatt shrugged and fidgeted with the bottle in his hands. “Helps,” he mumbled, “with the nerves n shit.” 

Eloise frowned. “But you know you don’t need it…” 

Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Do you think you’re my mum or somethin’?” He mumbled, taking another swig. 

Wyatt grew up hearing the subtle arguments about drinking, he knew his Papa would lecture his Dad about alcohol. It wasn’t a secret to Wyatt that his Dad was an alcoholic in his youth. He’d witnessed the slip-ups. He hadn’t intended to follow in his footsteps, but he understood it. He understood that alcohol masked the pain he wanted to hide. Of course, he also saw how it affected people and their relationships. He just had to look to Charlie for that. His honorary cousin was a recovering alcoholic, a recovering opioid addict. Charlie’s life was a complete mess and he turned to the alcohol and the drugs and he swore to his Aunt Lucy that he wouldn’t follow. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have a drink every so often to dull his thoughts. 

“Look, Wyatt, I’m not going to pretend I even get what you’re going through… But you can’t lead everyone when you’re high as a kite or drunk. Please just… Just think about what I’m saying, yeah?” Eloise smiled weakly and kissed his cheek. 

Wyatt leant into her and gave her a weak smile. He nodded in response to what she’d said. They sat there for a while, just sitting in silence, enjoying each other’s company. 

“What’s that?” Wyatt asked, frowning at movement within the tallgrass. His heart started to race. The compound was on lockdown, so no one was leaving. Eloise sat up and looked at it, a look of panic growing evident on her face. 

Through the grass, governmental guards stomped through, rifles in hands and dogs barking around them. Wyatt stood up and grabbed Eloise’s hand and pulled her to her feet. They ran back towards the compound, hearts racing as they did so. 

Once they got there, they rallied everyone up. They were panicking, telling them to make themselves scarce. But it was too late. Outside, dogs were barking and snarling and rifles were being cocked. Wyatt’s head turned to the side and suddenly, the world started to move in slow motion. Everyone ran to the gates, determined to defend themselves. Wyatt moved to the front, hands up in surrender. He was frantically pleading with them to stop, desperate to save his friends and family. Sebastien, however, had other plans. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the handgun, the minute he raised it, the guards decided to open fire on The Underrated Youth. 

**_If I die, would you cry? Would you come and bury me alive?_ **

Sebastien was hit first, his body falling to the ground. As bullets flew towards them, The Underrated Youth all made haste to hide, yet few were successful in this. Wyatt looked around at the bodies of his friends, all on the ground. His heart broke, but he had no time to grieve. He pushed Eloise to the side and grabbed a white flag, everyone knew they might have needed it one day. 

**_If I die, would you cry? Would you come and bury me alive?_ **

“Wyatt!? WYATT!?” Eloise called, almost scrambling to get him. Charlie and Lucy held her back, knowing they didn’t need another casualty. 

Wyatt stepped forward, waving the flag trying to make peace. He had hoped that they would honour the age old show of temporary ceasefire. But these weren’t your usual guards. They shot anyone and everyone who got in their way. There was no way they’d make a deal with a rebel group. 

Weapons were raised higher, each guard aiming for Wyatt. He gulped and looked at them. His eyes were pleading, desperate for them to stop. 

Eloise looked on, everything was going too fast for her. She was terrified for her boyfriend. Terrified for her home, her family. 

The guards didn’t waste time, shooting Wyatt on sight. Three bullets ripped into him, causing him to fall to his knees as he screamed in pain. Faintly, he could hear Eloise calling his name. Suddenly, everything went black. 

**_There's hope for the underrated youth_ **

**_I'm so far from telling you the truth_ **

**_Yeah, there's hope for the underrated youth_ **

**_And I'm so far from telling you the truth_ **

**_You keep on pulling me down, pulling me down, pulling me down_ **

**_Yeah there's hope for the underrated youth..._ **

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, all! 
> 
> This piece is inspired by YUNGBLUD's Hope For The Underrated Youth! When I first heard it, I immediately thought of Les Amis and later found out it was inspired by Les Mis and the French Revolution! So please, give it a listen and watch the music video [here!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0DA-Hv6GM2A)


End file.
